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A Journey for Love
- A Journey for Love -
How pleasant are: those locks of ladies fair,
The tokens of favor unto knights oft given…
As carried forth by them on quests so long!
But to a maid herself, such cannot compare,
So for a maid’s favor, I have ever striven…
As I have composed so many a proud song.
But who listens to the bounty of these words?
Too many today prefer to carry cruel swords.
I journeyed forth, from old Glastonbury Tor,
Where some say the magic of Avalon exists…
There was naught but ruins today, as before,
And so my journey became filled with twists.
And then, in search of truths long forgotten,
I went forth, unallied to churches or kings…
My soul drawn to places I cannot speak of.
Wherein I learned things anciently begotten,
And was bound by heavy oath that stings…
All in service to the ageless goddess of love!
Cruel is a mistress of a cause so hard to win;
When love is scarce, and so abundant is sin!
I journeyed forth, from the Wiltshire plains,
Unto the ruins of the birthplace of old lords…
I beheld ancient battlefields, naught remains,
But the breeze that blows my lute’s chords!
I found no answers in crypts long untended,
Nor in the holy places where mystics roam…
And empty were the caves considered holy!
My legs were sore, as from kneeling bended,
In prayer and meditation far from my home…
There was nothing left, for a god to show me.
And still I sought in vain for answers deeper!
I have held love dear but could not keep her.
I journeyed forth, unto the hard western cliffs,
Unto the places spoken of in ballads of old…
Where Lyonesse sank with the quaking shifts;
That drowned so many grand kingdoms cold.
And so, I longed for the comfort of a maiden,
The warmth of arms open, and kisses so hot…
That they would dispel: the chill of cold lands.
And so my arms ever ache, as they did then,
From the emptiness of desires long uncaught…
The longing to hold just one maid in my hands!
Perhaps it is not I whose way has gone astray,
But the way of this sad age, unto this very day.
The old journey is over: the quest is complete,
But still I wander, in search of what I do seek…
Until I know true love, then the road I’ll meet,
And where I will journey, I dare not to speak!
How pleasant are: those locks of ladies fair,
The tokens of favor unto knights oft given…
As carried forth by them on quests so long!
But to a maid herself, such cannot compare,
So for a maid’s favor, I have ever striven…
As I have composed so many a proud song.
But who listens to the bounty of these words?
Too many today prefer to carry cruel swords.
I journeyed forth, from old Glastonbury Tor,
Where some say the magic of Avalon exists…
There was naught but ruins today, as before,
And so my journey became filled with twists.
And then, in search of truths long forgotten,
I went forth, unallied to churches or kings…
My soul drawn to places I cannot speak of.
Wherein I learned things anciently begotten,
And was bound by heavy oath that stings…
All in service to the ageless goddess of love!
Cruel is a mistress of a cause so hard to win;
When love is scarce, and so abundant is sin!
I journeyed forth, from the Wiltshire plains,
Unto the ruins of the birthplace of old lords…
I beheld ancient battlefields, naught remains,
But the breeze that blows my lute’s chords!
I found no answers in crypts long untended,
Nor in the holy places where mystics roam…
And empty were the caves considered holy!
My legs were sore, as from kneeling bended,
In prayer and meditation far from my home…
There was nothing left, for a god to show me.
And still I sought in vain for answers deeper!
I have held love dear but could not keep her.
I journeyed forth, unto the hard western cliffs,
Unto the places spoken of in ballads of old…
Where Lyonesse sank with the quaking shifts;
That drowned so many grand kingdoms cold.
And so, I longed for the comfort of a maiden,
The warmth of arms open, and kisses so hot…
That they would dispel: the chill of cold lands.
And so my arms ever ache, as they did then,
From the emptiness of desires long uncaught…
The longing to hold just one maid in my hands!
Perhaps it is not I whose way has gone astray,
But the way of this sad age, unto this very day.
The old journey is over: the quest is complete,
But still I wander, in search of what I do seek…
Until I know true love, then the road I’ll meet,
And where I will journey, I dare not to speak!
Published 17th Jan 2012
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